


You With The Sad Smile, Don’t Lose Your Courage

by mharryella



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Post Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Sad Harry, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Indulgent, depression tw?, references to mpreg Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mharryella/pseuds/mharryella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis have a baby. It should be perfect, but Harry isn't.</p><p>Or, the one where Harry has postpartum depression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Your Soul's In A Wild Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is so self-indulgent, I'd be surprised if anyone even reads this. I'm a midwifery student and I had this idea in uni today when we talked about postpartum depression, which is something no one ever really talks about because mothers are expected to be flying high after their baby is born, but sometimes it just doesn't work that way. This is just a reminder or something
> 
> Enjoy reading x

It was supposed to be a happy time. Was supposed to be a time full of baby cuddles, Louis cuddles, _family_ cuddles. Yet, Harry couldn’t even appreciate the tiny, rosy bundle of small fingers and toes, soft baby skin, and fluffy hair, pink lips and the cutest little button nose. He could see all that, of course he could. He just couldn’t appreciate it.

And it’s frustrating him. It’s scaring him, more than anything. He was looking forward to hold his and Louis’ first baby for the first time, couldn’t stop talking about his pregnancy, showing off his baby belly and gloating. He could see the way Louis was looking at him, saw how much Louis loved the sight of Harry being pregnant, and now it just seems like all Louis focuses on anymore is the baby. Harry doesn’t even feel like his thoughts are rational, he feels like an ungrateful bastard, looking at his beautiful baby girl, the perfect mix of Louis and him, and not feeling anything. Worse, even. Feeling like getting rid of the baby. Or getting rid of himself, whenever he looked at himself in the mirror.

He was in pain _all_ the bloody time, he felt heavy, even though he lost so much weight due to the birth. He didn’t even eat anymore. Everything is just too much effort. He felt like a shell of himself, felt like the real him was left behind somewhere in the hospital, and he just felt so fucking exhausted. Why did no one ever tell him about this feeling? Everyone always told him the first time with the new-born baby would be the best, and he couldn’t agree less with them.

Right now, he wakes up to the sound of Rosie’s wailing through their bedroom and he sighs heavily, barely keeping from screaming into his pillow in frustration. He’d just gotten the first actual _sleep_ in days; he can’t even sleep when his body screams for it – can’t calm his mind from thoughts whirring through his head.

He doesn’t move, stares up at the ceiling and lets Rosie’s cries pierce through his ears, almost revels in the punishment her pain is to him. Because he knows, he knows he’s not being a good parent to her, he was prepared for everything, seemed to have it all figured out beforehand, was prepared to be the best parent _ever_ , but now he simply can’t. He doesn’t know how or why, he just knows it is absolutely impossible for him to take proper care of his baby.

“Haz?” Louis mumbles sleepily, turning over and blinking his eyes open sleepily. Harry looks at him and his stomach churns. Not even his love for Louis is the same, and it pains him whenever he looks at his husband. Everything just seems so grey, and he can’t bring himself to colour everything in.

“Rosie’s crying”, he points out unhelpfully.

“I know”, Harry responds resigned. Louis frowns at him.

“Why aren’t you helping her, then?” he asks confused, turning to move out of the bed. “Poor little thing.”

“Why me?!” Harry screams at Louis, who turns around quickly, looking at Harry in shock. “Why do _I_ have to be the fucking one to calm her down, _all_ the _bloody_ time!”

“Harry!” Louis says flabbergasted. “What is going _on_ with you?”

Harry just shakes his head, gets out of the bed and over to Rosie’s crib, takes her out of it and places her in Louis’ arms. “I’m going to make a bottle for her” he mumbles before leaving the room slowly. He makes his way into the kitchen in the dark while listening to Louis mumbling sweet nothings to their daughter soothingly.

Going through the motions of preparing Rosie a bottle, he tries not to think about how much his body is screaming for sleep, tries to ignore the one question that’s been on his mind for a while now, the one Louis has finally voiced out loud.

Finally, he returns with the bottle and hands it to Louis wordlessly. “I’m going to take a shower”, he mumbles and turns around before going to the bathroom and locking himself in. He turns the shower on hot, too hot, probably, and sits beneath it, staring at the white tiles on the wall. His mind is screaming at him and is too quiet at the same time, like everything else lately. Everything is so hectic, so much is happening around him, but Harry feels so slow, feels like he can’t keep up.

 

After what must have been about half an hour, he hears a small knock on the bathroom door. “Harry, let me in, please?” Louis asks softly, hopefully, maybe regretfully.

“Lou, please” Harry sighs. “Please just leave me be.”

“Harry, I’m serious, please.” Harry leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, willing Louis to go away. Willing himself to be somewhere else, imagining a life where he could love his daughter. He listens to Louis breathe through the door before he finally hears a defeated sigh and footsteps walking away from the bathroom door.

He finally shuts the shower off and leaves the bathroom, not even bothering drying himself off, not caring about the cold draft that hits his body as soon as he leaves the steamed up bathroom, not caring about leaving wet puddles in the hallway. He moves to the living room and sits on the window sill, his favourite corner in the house.

It’s a big window, reaching from the ceiling to about knee height, where there is a wide window sill. Harry immediately made that his primary hang out spot when they moved in, bought loads of pillows and blankets to make it comfortable. He used to sit here with his big belly, looking out the window and watching the happenings on the street below him happily. He used to imagine sitting here with his baby and watching the people down there together, used to love the thought.

He’s not once sat there with Rosie in the ten days she’s been home with them.

He leans his head against the cool window, watching the street below, his mind slow and foggy, tired, but too tired to sleep.

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s sat there. Long enough to watch the sun rise, for the streets to get busier, a few stores to open. He doesn’t sleep, but feels like he’s in a trance. He startles when he feels a cool hand on his still naked shoulder. He doesn’t acknowledge Louis, keeps staring out of the window.

“Harry”, Louis murmurs, sliding his arms around his shoulders from behind. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Harry shrugs, closing his eyes in the hopes of calming himself down or waking himself up, or whatever he needs to do to get over this. He’s growing really quite annoyed with himself. “I want to help you, Haz.”

“I’m okay”, he whispers, fogging up the glass in front of him. Louis runs his hands down his torso, and all Harry can think of is how disgusting his stomach looks now that Rosie isn’t in there anymore. It’s just all so stretchy and by far not as toned as he used to be.

“Did you sleep out here?” Louis asks softly, tickling him gently. Something Harry has always loved, something that used to turn him on so bad.

“No”, he says flatly. “Didn’t sleep.”

“Harry, I called your midwife”, Louis murmurs. “You’re worrying me.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. Just Rosie,” he says, whispering the last part. “She’s more important now.”

“Harry, that’s not true! You’re just as important, sweetheart, you know that.”

“Louis, fuck”, Harry groans, turning around to scowl at his husband, throwing his arms off him in the process. Tearfully, he asks “Why can’t you treat me like I am, then?”

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, frowning confused.

“I’m so fucking empty, Louis, I’m tired all the fucking time, I’m so tired I can’t even sleep, how does that make sense? I’ve actually slept for the first time in days yesterday and then she cries and, god, I was so tired, and you- why can’t you just get up for her, Louis, why? And you know I didn’t even sleep well towards the end of pregnancy. Everything hurts, my stitches still hurt. I, god, I haven’t eaten in so long, I feel like I live for her. Whenever I’m hungry, I have to feed her and then I just have no appetite and I’m losing it, Lou, I’m fucking losing myself, I don’t care about anything, I don’t- I don’t even love her the way I want to!”

He starts sobbing sometime during his last sentence and collapses forward into Louis’ chest, who is quick to wrap his arms around Harry’s back and rocks him back and forth gently.

“I don’t think I can feel anymore”, Harry cries. “I d—don’t even love you the way I did before. I’m so angry at you.”

To Louis' credit, he doesn't even seem fathomed. On a different occasion, Harry would've been able to appreciate how strong Louis was being for him in that moment.

“I’m so sorry, Harry”, Louis whispers into his hair. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s the fucking point! You don’t even see me. All your attention is on her, and I’m jealous of a fucking _baby_ , of my own baby! What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart, I’m so sorry, lovely”, Louis keeps mumbling, rubbing soothing circles into Harry’s back. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see, I’m so sorry I’m not the husband and father I promised you to be. I’m so sorry this is so hard on you and that you can’t enjoy her the way you wanted to. But I’m always here for you, I hope you know that even though you might hate me right now.”

“I just hate who I’ve been lately”, Harry whispers.

“I don’t want you to hate who you are, baby. Because you’re so amazing, Hazza, and you’re so strong. And we’re going to get you better, hm? Sara will be here very soon, and you can talk to her about all of this, yeah? She’ll know how to help you, and we’re going to get you happy again, my lovely. I will stop at nothing to make you happy, I love you. I love you so very much, and I’m so happy about what you’ve given us, our beautiful daughter. And she loves you, too, Harry, she loves you very much. Oh baby, please don’t cry,” Louis tuts sadly when Harry just sobs harder at that, feeling so, so guilty. “I know you’re disappointed in yourself right now, and feel like you can’t love her, but we’re going to learn that, yeah? We’re going to take small steps in the right direction, and that might take a while, but you will learn to love her just right. And you’re going to love me just as much as before, yeah? I’m certain of it. You’re going to be feeling alright again, I promise you.”

“Please”, Harry whimpers. “I want this to stop.”

“I know. I know, and it will.”

 

Louis keeps rocking Harry gently while Harry cries into Louis’ chest, and he’s so grateful that Rosie doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t think he could’ve handled her. After some time, the doorbell rings and Louis kisses the top of Harry’s head again. “Go put some clothes on, baby, I’ll go open the door. That’ll be Sara,” he says softly while carding his hands through Harry’s hair.

Harry nods, gets up and leans down to place a small kiss to his husband’s shoulder in a silent thank you. He pads towards their bedroom and quietly searches for some clothes to put on, trying not to wake Rosie. After he’s pulled some clothes on, some that are most probably dirty, he leaves the room and finds Sara and Louis in the kitchen, making tea. Sara smiles at him when she sees Harry and he returns the smile tightly. “Hi, Harry,” she says kindly. “How about we go sit down in the living room and talk for a bit, yeah?”

Harry nods and turns back around to lead the way there, catching Louis’ encouraging smile.

 

A long conversation, about a million tears and hugs later, Sara leaves Harry with an appointment with a therapist specialised on postpartum depressions, because apparently that is what he’s going through.

He already feels so much better though, because even though it may not be normal, he at least feels like the feelings he has are legitimate for the first time. He doesn’t despise himself for thoughts he has as much as he did before, feels like maybe he is allowed to have them. Because it’s not him who’s bad, it’s this PPD. It’s the lack of pregnancy hormones, combined with stress, too little sleep, maybe even a predisposition. Maybe he’s just not been able to process the delivery, yet. Maybe he doesn’t to know the exact reason, he’s just relieved he’s not somehow broken. Or unable to be a good parent.

He’s still sad, and he’s still scared, but right now, it may be okay. And he will get through this.

Timidly, he sneaks into their room, walks over to where Rosie is still sleeping in her crib and looks down at her. He reaches down and strokes her cheek gently, and he thinks this is the first time he’s touched her because he wanted to. Not because he needed to. The thought makes his eyes feel with tears again, his forefinger still stroking her cheek softly. “I’m going to love you the way you deserve to be loved one day, little Rosie,” he whispers to her, reaching his free hand up to his cheek to wipe at his tears. “I’m sorry I can’t, yet. But I’m going to try, for you, and for Lou. I need to be alright for you two.”

Strong arms wrap around his middle from behind again, a kiss placed on the back of his head. “You need to be alright for yourself, too, Haz.”


	2. Epilogue: Dreams On A Gold Wire

Harry wakes up to a fist in his fast, and yes, it’s definitely slobbery. “Rose,” he groans, turning over and wiping her spit off in his pillow. He creaks his eyes open at her, sees her lying on her belly, grinning at him. Louis smiles at Harry from her other side, his hand placed gently on her back. “You disgusting little thing,” Harry grins at her, picks her up and lifts her up a few inches above his face, then lowers her so he can blow a raspberry on her belly. “That’s not a very nice way to wake people up.”

Rosie squeals happily, paddling her arms around wildly, hitting him square in the eye, making him giggle as well. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“ _You’re_ cute,” Louis smiles, scooting a bit closer and kissing Harry’s temple, pressing his thumb into a love bite from the night before. “Hm, that’s a nice one,” he grins smugly. Harry sticks out at him before leaning forward to kiss him softly, Rosie now placed on his chest comfortably, happily gnawing away at Harry’s collarbone. Right where he’s got her own little swallow tattooed a couple weeks ago. Just above Louis’ bird.

“Your daddy’s a vampire,” he tells Rosie, kissing the top of her head. “And it looks like you might have inherited that from him.”

“She’s daddy’s little girl,” Louis grins at her proudly. “Aren’t you, darling?”

“Ba!” she says excitedly, blowing a gigantic spit bubble from her pink lips.

“That sounded way more than papa, didn’t it, little flower?” Harry grins at her, bopping her nose. “Yes, of course it did. You love your papa,” he grins, swinging his legs out of bed to get up, propping her up on his hip. He kisses her temple, taking a deep breath to smell her baby scent. He hopes she’ll always smell like this. “I love you very much, too. And I love your daddy, too. Even though he’s quite strange, isn’t he?”

“Harry, you’re naked,” Louis calls after him when Harry’s on his way to the kitchen to prepare his family their morning drinks – Louis’ beloved Yorkshire tea, Rosie’s baby milk and his own herbal tea.

“Lou, if you read the baby books you’d know naked bonding is the best thing you could do with your baby,” Harry says, quite patronisingly, peeking his head back through the door to scowl at Louis playfully. “We take nakey baths together, don’t we, doll?” he grins at Rosie and tickles her tummy, continuing his way to the kitchen. Rosie just giggles in confirmation.

“Tomlinson, I’m getting jealous over here!” Louis yells from the bedroom.

“Did you hear that, little Tommo?” Harry grins at Rosie after putting the kettle on. “Your daddy is silly, isn’t he? Maybe we can invite him along to one of our baths sometime, what do you think?”

Rosie’s answer consists of another giant spit bubble being blown his way and Harry shakes his head at her fondly. “You really are quite gross, little miss.”

She giggles again and Harry takes her bottle, moving to his window sill to sit and watch the street with her. He loves it now, loves sitting there with her and feeding her her bottle, watching out the window together. He loves pointing at things, telling her what they are. It feels like the beginning of showing her the world.

Her big, pale green eyes are fixed on the big window that needs cleaning _again_ , because she loves pressing her chubby and greasy little hands against the glass, or rubbing her face into it, licking at it, like maybe that’ll bring her closer to all the dogs and cars that fascinate her so much. Slowly, her eyes wander to Harry’s face, though, looking at him with so much trust and love in her eyes that his heart swells to about triple its normal size in his chest.

“You precious little angel,” he murmurs to her, smoothing his hand over her feathery hair. She just keeps sucking on her bottle and they both return their attention to the street below. Harry knows Louis will show up with their teas in a minute, snuggle up with them and make up ridiculous stories about the people down there. Rosie will lose interest in her bottle and start playing with Harry’s fingers. Louis will steal her from Harry’s arms and hold up her body so she can try standing on her little legs because he’s convinced that’s the best way to make her a footie star. She’ll find that funny for quite a short time before she feels the need to get the window a bit dirtier than it already is, so Louis will move a bit closer to it.

Harry knows all of this because this has been their morning routine for a while now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry really quite loves his little family.

**Author's Note:**

> If you think you might be going through this or might know anyone who does, please don't hesitate to ask your midwife! They will be happy to help.  
> If you have any questions, feel free to comment as well.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
